


Palabras

by almostblue (fictionalaspect)



Category: B.A.P, K-pop
Genre: Closeted Character, Drinking, Drinking & Talking, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Smoking, To Be Continued
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-04
Updated: 2014-07-04
Packaged: 2018-02-07 09:21:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1893732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictionalaspect/pseuds/almostblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Why are we going outside?" Yongguk asks. He looks at Himchan like a stranger, as though Himchan has burst through his door and is pulling him out into the night against his will. His eyes are soft and blurred and Himchan wonders how fast all of that soju disappeared. </p>
<p>"Because you need a break," Himchan says. Yongguk doesn't resist. He comes willingly, following Himchan out to the tiny stoop behind the back of their building. They have a few cracked plastic chairs arranged out between the weeds, waist high, now, with summer on its last legs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Palabras

**Author's Note:**

> There will be a sequel, but I'm not sure when. Thank you the most wonderful suitofarmour for reading this over for me ♥

"We are stories whose stories have not yet been spoken," Yongguk says, when Himchan comes across him in the kitchen. They're both bleary-eyed, 3am past-midnight and three hours until dawn and the bottle of soju is half empty, now. Himchan slides it to the side. 

"Come outside with me," he says, pulling Yongguk up and away from his notebook. Away from the hazy scrawls and fierce mutterings, away from the words that Yongguk wraps himself in. Sometimes they are pure and sometimes they are poison and tonight feels like the latter. His hands are firm but thin, clasped tightly within Himchan's own. 

"Why are we going outside?" Yongguk asks. He looks at Himchan like a stranger, as though Himchan has burst through his door and is pulling him out into the night against his will. His eyes are soft and blurred and Himchan wonders how fast all of that soju disappeared. 

"Because you need a break," Himchan says. Yongguk doesn't resist. He comes willingly, following Himchan out to the tiny stoop behind the back of their building. They have a few cracked plastic chairs arranged out between the weeds, waist high, now, with summer on its last legs. Yongguk is always worse when the winter comes. 

The tips of their cigarettes dance in the dark like fireflies. Himchan lights two, sucking in twice as hard, twice as much, before handing one to Yongguk. Yongguk takes it with obvious pleasure, sucking deep and letting the cherry burn bright. 

"Thanks," he says. Himchan nods. He closes his eyes against the warm summer breeze and tries to remember what they're doing tomorrow. The circles beneath his own eyes are deep. He hasn't been sleeping lately, either. 

"Are the kids asleep?" Himchan asks. Yongguk nods, blowing out a stream of smoke. "Jongup is on the couch," he says apologetically. "I didn't want to move him. But they're all asleep." 

"Good," Himchan says. He gives up on trying to remember their schedule. It doesn't matter, anyway. Daehyun will wake them up. He always does. 

"I'm writing about words," Yongguk says, after the silence stretches out into softness. 

"All the words in the world?" Himchan lets a hint of a smile shine through. Yongguk laughs. 

"No," he says. "But I should. Imagine. A song with words from every language. Imagine how amazing that would be." 

"Only if it was a rap." 

"It would be a rap."

"You could get Junhonggie to do it." 

"You could sing the chorus." Yongguk gives him a lopsided smile. "What are you doing up, anyway?"

"Couldn't sleep," Himchan says. "I was practicing at the studio." 

"But you can always sleep." Yongguk frowns. 

Himchan shrugs. He's awake, and there's nothing he can do about it. He might as well stay up until dawn. Drink with Yongguk until they're both lazy and tumbling to the floor, notebooks half-torn and forgotten. 

"Are you really working?" Himchan says. He pulls another drag, blowing the smoke out of his nostrils like a dragon. It's unattractive, which is why he only smokes like this around Yongguk. "Or are you just kind of drinking and writing and drinking?"

"Mmm," Yongguk says. "Something like that." 

"Then let me catch up," Himchan says. Their hands brush. He wonders if Yongguk is considering the same consequences as he is. Late night drinking always leads to--

\--but, no. They don't talk about it. 

Yongguk is quiet for a moment. "Sure, if you want," he says, but there's a thready note of want in his voice, hidden behind the slur of deceptively casual words. "We could do that." 

Himchan nods. Okay, then. That's settled. 

"There are fireflies out tonight," he says, instead of _thank you for making the smart choice._ When Yongguk says no, Himchan doesn't push. He just goes to bed and then Yongguk drinks and writes and more often than not he's still awake when Himchan wakes up again. Himchan hates seeing Yongguk look as hollow as he does on those mornings. The price of genius, they all whisper, but Himchan isn't sure that genius needs to be as masochistic as Yongguk to be productive. 

"I know," Yongguk says. He looks up and the sharp light from the streetlamps casts his face into plane and angles of shadow. "I was watching them out the window for a while. They always make me think of death." 

"Jesus," Himchan snorts, starting to laugh. "Could you be any more morbid and tortured tonight?" He elbows Yongguk in the ribs gently. Yongguk grins at him around the end of his cigarette. 

"You just don't understand my tortured artistic soul," Yongguk deadpans. 

"I don't understand your tortured artistic _face_ ," Himchan says. "Just come inside, okay? We'll get drunk and fuck, it will be fine." 

Yongguk stares at him, eyes wide. 

_They don't talk about it._

"Shit," Himchan says. "Oh, fuck. I'm." He drops the butt of his cigarette to the ground, crushing it with the heel of his shoe. "I shouldn't have said that." 

Yongguk frowns, worrying at his lower lip. 

"I'm going inside," Himchan says. "Just. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have--Forget about it. Just forget I said that." 

Yongguk drops his cigarette on the ground. He slowly, carefully grinds the cherry out with his shoe, and then drops the used filter in the can they keep for exactly that purpose. 

"We are words whose stories have not yet been told," Yongguk murmurs. 

"You said it the other way around the first time," Himchan says. He doesn't know why he's still standing here. His stupid fucking mouth--and Yongguk, _Yongguk_ , of all people, the man who never talks and yet never shuts up when he puts his pen to paper. _We should have talked about this,_ Himchan thinks. He's suddenly tired. _We should have talked about this and we didn't and now look, we're here. Fucking hell, Kim Himchan. Will you ever learn to shut up?_

"I think I had it wrong the first time," Yongguk says. "Why are you leaving?" 

"Because I said--"

"Don't," Yongguk says. "Stay out here with me. One more cigarette." He digs in his own pockets for his pack. 

"But I just," Himchan says helplessly. "I'm." 

"Tonight is a night about words," Yongguk says. "At least you're being honest." 

"I may be honest but I'm not drunk enough for this conversation," Himchan says. 

"I'm probably too drunk for it," Yongguk says. "We can meet in the middle."

Himchan sighs and sits back down on the stoop. Yongguk lights his second cigarette, drawing the smoke into his lungs.

"That is what we do, isn't it," he says contemplatively. "Fucking." He's not freaking out. Himchan is freaked out by Yongguk's lack of freaking out. This is weird. He lights his second cigarette on auto-pilot, accepting Yongguk's offer of a lighter. Their fingers brush again. 

"Would you rather I said we made love?" It comes out wrong. Too sharp. Defensive. 

"No," Yongguk says. "I think you got it right the first time." 

"Okay." 

Himchan stares at his hands. He should have words, he thinks, feeling helpless. He should have something to say. He always has something to say. 

"Do you like it?" 

"What?"

"Do you like it," Yongguk says, turning his body so that he can see Himchan's expression. "I'm serious. I want to know." 

"You think I would do that with you if I didn't like it?" 

"Yes," Yongguk says, entirely serious. "You always give too much of yourself. You would do that for any of us. I know you." 

Himchan sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He doesn't want Yongguk to be right, but he has to admit the truth in his words. 

"Yes," Himchan says, instead of _shut the fuck up_. "I like it." 

Yongguk hums in response. 

"What does that even _mean_ ," Himchan says, suddenly exasperated. "I tell you I like fucking you and all you can do is hum?"

"I'm thinking of what to say," Yongguk says slowly. "I don't want to get it wrong." 

"Well, think faster." 

"It doesn't work like that." Yongguk smiles humorlessly. 

Himchan sighs, closing his eyes in defeat. "I know." 

The low hum of cicadas and other insects slowly fill up the space between them before Yongguk answers.

"I like it," he says carefully, tossing his second cigarette to the ground. "And I think we should try it sober." 

"What?" Himchan turns and stares. "Seriously? Are you insane?"

Yongguk tilts his head. "Is it really that scary for you?"

"Yes," Himchan says. "I mean--no. I mean. Fuck, who even says that? Do you even understand what you're suggesting?" He waves his hands back and forth, back and forth, as though he can make Yongguk understand that this fragile connection between them isn't one that should be brought out into the light. 

"Yes," Yongguk says, beginning to sound slightly annoyed. "That's why I thought about it for so long. But if you don't want to, that's okay." 

"I didn't say that," Himchan mutters. He looks away. "It just seems like a bad idea." 

"I'm not suggesting we get married. I'm saying that maybe we should try fucking when we're not completely wasted." 

"Can you stop saying it like that?" Himchan winces. 

Yongguk grins. "What, now you don't like it?"

_No, I like it too much,_ Himchan thinks to himself. "It's just weird," Himchan says. "It's just weird, that's all." 

Yongguk shrugs. "If you change your mind..." he says, letting the end of the sentence trail off. Then he shrugs. "You know where to find me. Obviously." He brushes off his jeans as though he's preparing to stand up, and Himchan finds himself reaching out for Yongguk almost before he's aware of his own actions. 

"Okay, fine," Himchan says. "Look. You're drunk, right? So if you freak out in the morning, I can just lie and say this never happened?" 

"If that's what you really want to do," Yongguk says, still frustratingly zen. Himchan considers punching him, but only for a split second. "No, stop with the 'I am Bang Yongguk Buddha' thing, we both know that's fake," Himchan says. "I'm serious. If you are fucking with me, and I say yes, this isn't going to be okay in the morning. Not for either of us."

Yongguk's answering laugh is short and amused; happy, almost. Then he leans in, catching Himchan's mouth with his own. Himchan sucks in a surprised breath.

It's not the best kiss they've ever shared. It's messy, too rough, and neither of them have shaved since the day before. Himchan bites down on Yongguk's lower lip anyway, savoring the familiar acrid taste of smoke and alcohol. Yongguk sighs and then pulls back momentarily before darting in for another sharp kiss. Himchan slides his hand into Yongguk's hair, fingers twisting around the thick curls. 

"This isn't talking," Himchan murmurs, before sliding his tongue behind Yongguk's teeth and across the roof of his mouth. 

Yongguk smiles against his mouth. "I already said what I wanted to say," he murmurs back. "It was your turn to talk." 

"Oh." Himchan forgot about that. He tugs on Yongguk's hair harder, pulling him closer. "Right."

"Channie," Yongguk breathes. "Just say yes. Please."

Himchan hesitates--and he needs to stop hesitating, he _needs_ to, he's the one who brought this whole thing up. It just seems like right now he's also the only one who's prepared to look dead-on at all the things they could lose along with the things they could gain. But in the end--isn't that what he's always relied on Yongguk for? Himchan trusts Yongguk to the ends of the earth and back; but more importantly, he trusts Yongguk to know when it's time to jump. 

"Okay," Himchan says, licking his lips as he pulls back. "We try it. Once." Yongguk's answering smile is lopsided and fond. 

"Then I should probably get some sleep," Yongguk says, leaning forward again. "We leave for Japan in less than 48 hours." 

"You said you didn't know the schedule!" Himchan huffs, pulling back. "You're such a liar." 

"You know I always know the schedule. You didn't call me out on it." 

"Do I have to call you out on everything?"

"Yes," Yongguk says, grinning as he manages to kiss Himchan again, despite Himchan's half-hearted attempts to avoid him. "That's why I need you around." 

Himchan smirks at the compliment. "Then if this is your fancy-ass 'night of words,' I suppose Japan is supposed to be a night of action?" His tone comes out teasing and fond.

"Should be. Do you want me to write a song about it?"

" _No_ ," Himchan says, laughing. "God, no. Don't write me a song. Not about that." 

"You'd never know if it was about you, though..." Yongguk snickers. "You'd always have to wonder."

"Trust me," Himchan says, lacing their fingers together. "I'd know."

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://allmostblue.tumblr.com/) // [twitter](https://twitter.com/shutuphimchan) // [ask.fm](http://ask.fm/shutuphimchan)


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